


Darling, We're Everything

by queerhazeleyes



Series: Death Cannot Stop True Love [1]
Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: Dreams, Fluff, M/M, Post canon, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-13
Updated: 2012-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-18 14:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerhazeleyes/pseuds/queerhazeleyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collins knew he was dreaming. He knew because he was warm in ways he hadn’t been in years - he was unsure he even remembered the last time he was this warm. He knew because he had absolutely never had the time to sit like this under a tree, afternoon sun shining down on him. He knew because despite how much they had all talked about going to Santa Fe, the only one who ever made it that far was Roger. And he knew because Angel was walking towards him, and Angel was, well, dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling, We're Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first RENT fic and also my first time posting on AO3. I was struck by this idea months ago but didn't have time to write it (short as it is) til I decided to include it in my NaNoWriMo project this year.

Collins knew he was dreaming. He knew because he was warm in ways he hadn’t been in years - he was unsure he even remembered the last time he was this warm. He knew because he had absolutely never had the time to sit like this under a tree, afternoon sun shining down on him. He knew because despite how much they had all talked about going to Santa Fe, the only one who ever made it that far was Roger. And he knew because Angel was walking towards him, and Angel was, well, dead.

“You okay, honey?” she asked, just as she had the night they first met, on Christmas Eve all those years ago. Her face was full, like the night they met, not gaunt and grey the way she usually appeared in his dreams, the ones where she would accuse him of not loving her enough, not being strong enough or smart enough to save her.

“No,” Collins replied honestly, because he wasn’t. He faked it sometimes, to Mark and Roger, Mimi and Maureen and even Joanne. But he hadn’t been okay since Angel got sick. Even now, dreaming, with her standing in front of him strong and healthy, his heart ached. His whole soul ached, knowing he’d lost her so quickly.

Angel smiled and sank to her knees in the warm, soft grass, curling up against his side. She felt solid, more solid than the rest of the dream did, and he closed his eyes against the tears that threatened. “I know,” she said. He could see the pain in her eyes, see her soul aching the way his did. “I’m sorry.”

“It isn’t your fault,” he croaked, reaching out for her. She went into his arms easily. “I knew when we met that one of us would get sick. I knew I couldn’t have you forever. But it wasn’t even a year.” After her funeral, he had never been able to go out on Halloween again. It was one of the reasons he stayed away from New York most of the time, only going back to visit Mark and Roger for Christmas. Christmas was a day he could be okay, or lacking that, he could fake it.

“I know,” she said again, burying her nose in his chest as though she had missed him just as much, just as strongly. “It wasn’t long enough. But we’ll have another chance.” She pulled away slightly and smiled at Collins again. She licked her lips. “Next time, we’ll have longer. We’ll have all the time in the world. They promised.”

He furrowed his brow, not understanding. “They?”

Angel’s smile grew and she raised her hands to indicate the sky.

“You mean… God?”

“More or less,” she answered slyly. “It’s going to be okay. We get another run at it. With more time.”

More time. He was going to get more time to hold her, to know her, to love her, to kiss her. The time he hadn’t gotten the first time, when he instead spent days and weeks holding her in the hospital, painting her fingernails for her when she was too sick and weak to do it herself. But he was going to get more time, a next time, time she would spend healthy. Time they would both spend healthy. With a whoop of joy, Collins leaned forward and caught her mouth with his own. God. God. He had missed her so much. Still did; he still knew he was dreaming, and that when he woke up it would be to an empty bed. She moaned softly against his lips, wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, arched against his chest. When they broke apart, Collins laughed softly. “I hear violins.”

Angel brushed away the tears that were crawling down his cheek, her blue nail polish catching the sunlight. “So do I, darling. So do I.”

They stayed like that for a while, breathing together, until Angel drew herself out of the circle of his arms and pulled Collins to his feet. “I have to go,” she said with regret. “They told me I couldn’t stay long. You’re still alive, and I’m not, and for us to talk like this, well.” She brushed her hand across his cheek, staring into his eyes like she was afraid to forget how they looked. “I know I’ll recognize you, next time.”

“I’ll always recognize you,” Collins vowed.

She smiled again, and this time it looked less pained, less broken. She kissed him again, quickly. “You need to wake up now,” she said.

The sky behind her, with the sun and the trees, started to fade, and so did she. Reaching out desperately, Collins touched only air, even with the feeling of her hand still on his cheek. Right as it all went dark, in the moment before he woke, he heard her say “I’ll see you in our next life.”


End file.
